“So, are you all ready for the
holiday?” The man in the hospital elevator was full of December good cheer.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. How about
you?” My mother answered from her wheelchair.
Standing behind her, my mouth
dropped open in amazement. What an excellent answer. Totally true, without
explaining that she was Jewish and did not celebrate Xmas, my mother had
returned the stranger’s goodwill. I should not have been surprised. Having
spent almost her whole life in Kansas, center of the Bible Belt, she had had
many years to perfect her answer.
I never had my mother’s finesse. As
a little girl I used to giggle with embarrassment anytime anyone asked me what
I wanted Santa to bring me.
My childhood memories of December 25th
are that it was the worst day of the year. My father was in retail and after
weeks of holiday rush he and my mother looked forward to the goyishe holiday
as a well-deserved day of rest. That was fine for them. They could loll around,
read, sip coffee, talk quietly, whatever, but I was always bored. My friends in
the neighborhood were busy with their presents, their holiday dinners, and
families. I was not allowed to go to my cousins as most of them had Xmas trees in
their living room. There was nothing on TV except church programs. VCRs and DVDs had not been invented
yet. Yes, I could read and I did, but a full day of even the best book was
wearying.
As I grew older I began helping in
my father’s store and started appreciating the quiet of December 25th.
Sill, nothing could dispel the feeling of isolation that the American holiday
season gave me. I did love watching the sentimental shows that came on
television that time of year. I enjoyed
driving through the wealthy neighborhoods to look at the decorations. And I
participated good-naturedly in all the gift exchanges at school and clubs. However,
I knew all of this was not for me.
Raised in a traditional home, I did
know we had more holidays that the Christians. I appreciated my Jewish heritage
and while in university became more observant. Once married and a mother I
strived to make sure my children would not feel like they were missing
something. Our life was filled with holidays, both minor and major, which we
celebrated with enthusiasm. They learned in a Jewish day school so they never
had to mouth the words to Xmas carols as I once did. Their social life centered
around their Jewish playmates, none of whom celebrated Xmas.
However, the holiday spirit was
everywhere each December. It invaded all of our senses. We saw the decoration.
We heard the carols. We smelled the gingerbread and cookies. We felt left out.
And then we moved to Israel.
And now December 25th is
just a day on the calendar, one that often goes by without us noticing the
date. It’s just another one of the many good reasons to make Aliyah!
3 comments:
I lived in a Jewish, though non-observant neighborhood in the states, but the schools and streets and stores and media were all celebrating the Chrisitian holidays. Our kids are lucky here, B"H.
I grew up in New Zealand, where the end of December also marks the beginning of the Summer School Holidays.
Bnei Akiva made a point of scheduling their 10 day Summer camp (for kids from mainly non-observant homes) over the week of XMas, partially to remove the kids from the entire Christmas atmosphere visible in their neighbours homes, stores, TV, and all around them.
Michael,
I know from my friends, the Brems, that New Zealand had a very high aliyah rate. I'm sure part of that is due to the Bnei Akiva's December camp.
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